


In Reply

by French_Writings



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Other, Out of Character, Spaghetti dinner, grace is said at the dinner table, i love Ma kent so much, its really just a small thing i swear, no beta we die like robins, some swear words in the author's notes but thats it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:07:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25875616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/French_Writings/pseuds/French_Writings
Summary: In which Superman is more than an imaginary friend, letters are written, and spaghetti is eaten. (And the parents are flummoxed at the strange turn of events.)
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 1





	In Reply

**Author's Note:**

> Characters out of character? Check. Seriously though I have no idea why I decided to write this apart from ‘it was cute’. I don’t know Superman. I’ve never read the Superman Comics. I have, however, read some of the comics that include the batfam and company, and Superman shows up in some of the fics I read sometimes and a lot of the fanfiction writers for the DCU have my respect because most of them go and do research for things before they ignore most of it, and that’s a pretty damn respectable move. I, on the otherhand, don’t even know the character’s actual personality beyond what I can find in fanfiction and we all know how reliable that is.
> 
> Also, as stated, I don’t know the Kents. I don’t know about the whole relationshitshow that is a thing between Kal and Kon because of the clone thing, I don’t know wtf Conner is supposed to think and behave like, I don’t know Superman’s mannerisms like I know the mannerisms of the batfam. I do know, however, that I love Ma Kent with most of my being even though I only know her through fanfiction because I havent consumed the source media. This is a really wordy note I’m so sorry.
> 
> Anyways; saw a prompt on pinterest, decided it was cute, wrote words, here’s the end product?
> 
> (Also I don’t know how y’all bible folk say grace or whatever because thats not what I follow, but I asked my sister for help because she knows more than me so apologies if that’s way off or wrong or something but I felt it important to add for some reason)

“―And then we went to the park and Billy jumped off the swings and landed and it was so cool!” The smile was tangent in his voice as he told his story.

“Honey, who are you talking to?”

“Superman!! He’s my friend!” The woman let out a short huff of air.

“Of course honey. Come to dinner now, okay. Superman can wait for tomorrow. Say goodbye?”

“Yes, mama.” There was a rustling of fabric, and the kid said, “Goodbye, Superman!”

Clark smiled a bit, leaning back against the wooden chair in his room. Martha Kent was working on dinner while Jonathan was closing up the barn. He heard the tell-tale sound of plates clacking against each other as they were pulled out of the cupboard, and got up, walking to the kitchen, the smile still present on his face. 

Ma gave him a pointed look as he grabbed the plates from her hands and made his way to the table, counting the places as he went.

“Five? Who’s joining?” Ma walked into the room with an armful of glasses.

“Conner invited that Tim boy over.” She frowned a bit at the mention of Tim, and Clark made his way back into the kitchen to grab the utensils. “I wish that boy would take better care of himself.” Her voice carried through the room, along with the click of glass on wood. “He’s gonna collapse one of these days.” She began moving away as Clark returned with a handful of forks, knives, and spoons. He set two places before the porch squeaked and the door creaked open.

“Hi, Ma!”

“We’re home!”

A clatter came from the kitchen and a bright, “Hi boys!” came in response. She appeared as they were stripping off their jackets, holding a spoon in her hand. She stopped them before they could get their shoes off. “Can one of you go and get Pa? Dinner is ready.”

Conner shrugged. “He in the barn?” Ma gave him a smile in response and turned back towards the rest of the house. “C’mon in and help me move the food from the kitchen to the table, Tim.”

He finished untying his shoes and lined them up on the rack with everyone else's, following Ma into the kitchen. 

“Hi, Tim.”

“Hi, Clark.”

They stood awkwardly near the doorway of the kitchen, and Ma directed them each to a dish to carry out, carrying one in each of her hands already. They let her lead, each taking their one dish and following her in silence, parading the wonderful smell of Kent cooking through the air. It took two trips, and by the time the final dish was placed down, Pa and Conner were already at the table.

Ma began serving herself a decent portion of potatoes before passing the plate over to Tim, who took a much smaller portion to put on his plate. Ma scooped some of hers onto his plate while he was passing the dish over to Conner, eyes shinning as the boy didn’t note the extra food. He and Conner were engaged in a conversation, in so deep that the other people at the table could only catch a few of the words said.

“So, Clark, how’s the kid?” Tim and Conner zeroed in on the new conversation, dropping their own and watching for Clark’s answer.

“Geanne?” He looked surprised at the question, but answered anyway, pulling a piece of chicken onto his plate and handing it to Ma. “He’s good. He got a good score on his test so they let him go to the park with Billy, who apparently has a thing with jumping off the swings from really high up.”

“Does he now?” Ma pressed, and Tim watched Clark’s brow furrowed a bit.

“Yeah. Really hope they don’t end up hurt or something. Their parents would worry.”

“Their parents? Or you.” 

“Both.” Clark sighed, cutting into his chicken and ignoring the confused looks that Tim and Conner shared.  _ ‘Kid?’ _ Tim mouthed at Conner, who mouthed back an equally confused,  _ ‘Both?’ _

* * *

“You’re writing letters now?”

“Yes.”

“Bu- To who?”

“The kid. Geanne.” He peered over the top of the letter.

“G-e-a-n-n-e? Are you  _ sure _ you’re spelling that right?”

“The kid spelled it out when he first started talking. ‘Hi superman, my name is Geanne, Gee E Aye Double N E, and I want to be a hero too!’” He smiled a bit as he tapped the pencil against the desk. “Very memorable introduction and he’s been talking to me ever since. Figured it was time to talk back.”

“Kinda creepy.”

He jolted in his seat, twisting to the boy in shocked confusion. “What?”

“You listened into a kid talking from who knows how far away.” Clark blinked, preparing to argue, and the kid frowned at him. “Don’t tell me. You know where he lives, don’t you.” Clark shrugged. “Unbelievable. “ The kid threw himself onto the bed and tossed his arm over his head dramatically. “You’re just as bad as Tim I swear.”

“What does Tim have to do with this?” The kid sat up, deer in the headlights look on his face.

“Oh shit. Uh-” He tried to distract from the situation. “I can’t believe you’re stalking a kid, honestly Clark you-”

“Conner.” He sighed, murmuring an apology to the sky and meeting Clark’s gaze.

“Tim used to stalk Batman. A lot. Still probably does honestly, he was  _ really _ good at the sneaking stuff.”

“Tim? No, he’s so-”

“Quiet?”

“Nice. He’s a good kid.” Conner snorted. 

“Yeah okay. Anyways. You know where the kid lives? Damn.”

“It’s not that bad!”

“Sure.”

* * *

“Trace, come look at this!” His voice carried across the small house, as he held onto he sealed envelope with their son’s name and a stylized Superman S stamped on the return address location. A door opened, creaking hinges followed by the click of heels against the tile as his wife made her way into the dining hall.

“What is it dear, I’m getting ready for work.” He wordlessly handed her the letter, watching her gaze zero in on the symbol in the corner just like he had. “Oh my!”

“Do we open it? What if it’s dangerous?”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine. It is just a letter, after all.”

* * *

  
  


_ Dear Geanne, _

_ I’m glad you had fun at the park with your friend! Good job on that test, I knew you’d do good! Please be careful about jumping off the swings though, you could get hurt. Because you asked, my favorite food is my Ma’s pies, she makes really good ones all the time, and they get better every time I have them. Do you like pie? What kind? I like both cats and dogs, but I don’t know if I have time to take care of a pet with all the hero stuff I do. Pets are a  _ **_big_ ** _ responsibility and need a lot of love and attention. It is nice to hear about your day every once and a while. _

_ From, Superman _

**_P.S._ ** _ Your name is pretty cool _

* * *

“MOM!” Geanne came racing towards the door when Tracy came home from work. “MOM! Superman wrote me a letter!” She knew, so she smiled down at Geanne and hung up her keys.

“And what did it say?” He smiled wider.

“He said his mom makes really good pie and that pets are a big responsibility and that my name is cool!”

“Did he now?” She knew the answer to that too.

“Yeah!” She took off her shoes and tossed them into the corner, turning to pick Geanne up. With him in her arms, she started towards the kitchen.

“Tell me more!”

* * *

  
  


“Mom said that we’re having spaghetti tonight for dinner again, though I don’t think she plans on cooking it so I don’t know how we’re gonna get spaghetti for dinner.” He took in a big gasp of air. “Hey! Maybe one of these times you can come over and eat spaghetti dinner with us! I don’t think mom would mind too much. Hold on.”

Clark chuckled as he went through some of the JLA files. The kid never seemed to run out of things to say once he learned that Superman would reply with letters to most of the things he asked. Several other kids picked up on the trend of talking to Superman, and, no matter how irritating it got, which was a lot, kids are ridiculous, he would do his best to respond. He kept a notepad of things to respond to on him most of the time, placing initials next to the shorthand scribble equivalent of questions and important events.

“Mom said you’re probably really busy so you probably can’t come and not to get my hopes up.” He sounded down for a few seconds before he shifted gears, “But! Probably doesn’t mean definitely so you might have the time to come! I hope you can, Spaghetti nights are usually the second Tuesday of the month.” There was a tap against wood. “What else would you need to know, uhh, I think you know where I live already, so,” He paused, “Wait! You should probably tell my parents I invited you if you show up. So they don’t get scared.”

The pile of paper Clark was sorting through got slimmer as the kid talked, profiles being separated from the case files and the ones from sources that needed to be scanned into the system being stacked atop the printer. Spaghetti didn’t seem like such a bad idea really. Maybe Ma would make a pie he could show up with, as a ‘thank you for the hospitality’ gift.

* * *

  
  


Geanne was super excited. Beyond super excited. He was watching the door fan any sign of movement as his parents busied themselves in spot-cleaning the apartment before a literal superhero came over. They fluffed pillows and scrubbed at coffee rings and tossed random floor objects into the closet, checking in on the food every few minutes before racing around the room again. The table somehow got set during all the commotion, and as soon as poor Superman knocked on the door, smiling like no tomorrow and brandishing what looked like a homemade pie as he greeted them, he was lead into the dining room and placed in the spot of honor in front of an empty plate.

Geanne seemed to vibrate as he made down next to the hero, and to say that Superman was a little out of his element was the understatement of a century. Thankfully, he was saved from an immediate conversation because Geanne’s mom made him come and help bring out all the plates of food that they had prepared, but that wasn’t a permanent solution. The pie was placed in the center of the table and surrounded by the pasta, salad, bread, and pan of sauce. The family turned towards Superman in expectation.

Right. Grace. He could do grace. Tracy and her husband had mentioned something of the sort when they had gone over the details for the dinner. They had even given him a script to follow, still unsure about it. He had assured them he could handle it, but he was a little out of practice in it, so he would go with what he knew, however awkward it’d be.

“Bless us O Lord and these thy gifts which we about to receive from thy bounty through Christ our Lord.” Amen echoed across the table and Geanne stared at Superman in wonder while his parents nodded at him for his words. He faced the kid with a smile.

“So, Geanne, how has soccer been going for you?” He caught the surprised look Tracy and her husband shared when their son began to describe in enthusiastic detail the events the lead up to the opposing team’s goalie getting stuck in the net. The meal passed in relative peace, and Superman thanked them several times as he made his way to their door. They thanked him for the pie, and later, after he had left, he heard more thanks being said.

“Thanks for coming to spaghetti dinner! It was really nice to meet you!” From Geanne.

“Thank you for coming to entertain my son for the night. We were worried about him for a while.” From Geanne’s father.

“Superman. Thank you for my son’s smiles tonight. And the pie. You said your mother made it? It was delicious! Ask her if I can have the recipe?” From Tracy.

Ma caught his smile as she moved through the room.

“What’s got you grinning there?” He shook his head.

“Tracy wants your pie recipe, she said it was delicious!”

**Author's Note:**

> And Cue awkward ending!
> 
> Lmao I don’t know how kids work. Also don’t know how adults work. Don’t even know how english works honestly. I like Tracy, she seems like a cool mom. Was gonna make her a bitch first but didn’t want fiction to reflect reality, y’know?
> 
> Forcing your guests to do grace their way, no matter what their background was, is practically tradition in my grandma’s house. Means I don’t visit often because homie don’t play that, but I had to include it.
> 
> I wanted pie after this was finished being written and never got any can I get an F in the comments.


End file.
